


bridge pose.

by caravaggiosbrushes



Category: The Terror (TV 2018), The Terror - Dan Simmons
Genre: (but he makes it right afterwards), (we stan), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Flirting, Fluff, Francis thinks too much here, Francis' POV, James fitzjames looking like a snack, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Short & Sweet, Smitten Francis Crozier, Yoga, a very queer and stilish james, and kind of makes a mess, enemies to lovers in less than 3.000 words, james being so handsome it makes francis silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:34:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24543151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caravaggiosbrushes/pseuds/caravaggiosbrushes
Summary: This is how this came to life: "modern AU where James does yoga (and he’s very good at it. of course he is) in the same gym as Francis and it’s becoming a big, big, big distraction because he wears super tight shorts that let his long LONG legs bare, and he wears those damn lose tank tops with arm holes that go all the way down to his ribs and Francis can see how the muscle in his shoulders work and how his arms flex with every movement and- and Francis… Francis starts messing up every one of his exercises. Suddenly he doesn’t know how to do push-ups anymore."
Relationships: Captain Francis Crozier/Commander James Fitzjames
Comments: 19
Kudos: 43





	bridge pose.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!   
> This happened because 1) I love practicing yoga 2) I love my fitzier 3) I love combining things I love.  
> I first wrote [this post](https://caravaggiosbrushes.tumblr.com/post/619346118401294336/ok-hear-me-out-modern-au-where-james-does-yoga) and then I kept thinking about it so I wrote this little thing too because why not? Why not breaking the ice in a new fandom with a silly modern AU? (they’re my favourite)  
> I already posted it [on tumblr](https://caravaggiosbrushes.tumblr.com/post/619999330075623424/ok-hear-me-out-modern-au-where-james-does-yoga) but I figured I’d posted it here as well.  
> Enjoy! (and thank you so much if you actually read it omg)

Going to the gym has never been one of his favourite things, but lately it's been even harder than usual, thanks to the deliriously hot guy in the yoga class.

Francis has randomly noticed him a few weeks ago and has failed to tear his thoughts (and eyes) away from him since.

They never spoke, there hasn't been any occasion, since Francis has no intention to start taking yoga lessons (God forbid), not even for such an incredibly handsome dude with legs that go on for miles and biceps that look incredible when he pushes his entire body up (Francis had witnessed that once, when someone has forgot to close the door of the class. He's a changed man.)

Well, maybe he has considered joining that class, but only once. A couple of times. At most. Usually when he spots the hot guy in the hallways. Which is also when Francis promptly changes direction in order to avoid him, because honestly, what would he tell him? He can’t just go there and say _Hi, I know you’re totally, completely, ridiculously out of my league, and you’re probably wondering why I'm even talking with someone who looks like a supermodel with whom I clearly have no chance, and honestly I'm asking myself that too, but anyway I’ve been spying on you doing yoga like a real creep for weeks now, so would you like to grab a coffee with me?_ No, thanks. He’s fine just admiring him, safely, from afar, just like it's demanded for any other masterpiece.

So when they cross paths, Francis keeps his eyes somewhere else, pretends to be very interested in whatever Blanky’s saying, and generally avoid looking at him.

He’s forgotten to do that once, because the hot guy was wearing a tank top so loose that it was leaving his collarbone and a generous part of his chest completely bare (and his arms, Christ, _his arms_ -) and Francis has tripped on his own feet in the middle of the empty hallway. He doesn’t intend to repeat the experience, for he’s already made an idiot of himself well enough.

So Francis keeps admiring the hottest guy he’s ever seen from a safe distance, and he’s fine with that, really, there’s nothing wrong in wanting something you can’t have and still contemplating it. 

Right?

-

"Hi."

Francis was so lost in thoughts that he almost jumps to his feet. His day has been so shitty that he can’t even remember an equally shitty day (well, he can, but he likes being dramatic when talking to himself), and he wasn’t even in the mood to go to the gym, but he’s forced himself, because it’s important to stick to the routine, he knows that all too well, so here he is in the fucking gym, changed into his fucking shorts and t-shirt, only to then discover that his usual spot was already taken. He cherishes that spot because it’s the perfect place to do his work while keeping an eye on the yoga class’ door, so that he can spot the hot guy when he arrives and leaves. But today some fucker who clearly has no sense of his space has decided to deprive him of this one beautiful thing he could have had and so Francis is doing his damn exercises facing the window wall that overlooks the street and couldn’t care less of the view.

If that wasn’t already enough, now someone has just made him look like an idiot by making him startle with just one word, so he turns around to see who the hell that is and-

_Fuck_. He swear loudly, very loudly, in his mind.

"Hi." He says instead, hopefully not sounding as surprised and a bit shocked as he feels.

The hot guy, the freaking supermodel, wonder of nature, human version of a Greek statue is standing right there just a couple of steps away from Francis, his mouth tight in a polite ( _fake_ , his brain kindly supplies) smile. Today he’s wearing a loose hot pink t-shirt that looks very soft, its neckline so wide it falls down one of his shoulders -Francis would love to bite and mark all that gorgeous pale skin- and a pair of black super tight shorts that look painted on his legs and honestly, is this legal?

"So, I was wondering..." Hot Guy tentatively starts, his brows furrowed slightly, then gives a small, nervous laugh, looks at Francis straight in the eye and says: "Is there anything you have to tell me?"

_'Yes: you're so gorgeous I can hardly breathe if you’re less than 10 meters away from me,'_ Francis thinks.

_‘Yes: I want to eat my lunch directly from your flat stomach,_ ' he thinks.

_'Your voice- is it so deep when you moan, too?’_ his mind helpfully offers.

"Pardon me?" He says.

Hot Guy gives him a small (fake, again) smile and put his hands on his hips. It makes him look even bigger, somehow. Francis swallows.

"Look, I saw you staring," he says and Francis is still so enchanted by his entire presence that almost misses what comes next, "So I came to ask if you have a problem with me."

"What?" He snaps abruptly back to the present, "No- what kind of problem would I have? I don't even know you."

Hot Guy does another short, sour laugh, and shakes his head slightly, "Look, I'm not an idiot. If you have a problem with me, just say so. I’ll survive."

Francis is at a loss here. Is he missing something?

He feels takes a defensive posture, out of instinct, "Why would I have a problem with you?"

"You should be the one telling me that." He says, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow, "But I guess it would be the same as always: the way I look, the way I dress, sometimes even the way I _move_."

Francis thinks that it's a little bold to say that to a complete stranger, but then again of course this guy is well aware of his own handsome face and would find it _annoying_ that people likes his appearance. But then Hot Guy goes on, "I know that most people don't like that, how I dress and well," he makes a general gesture towards himself, to his hot pink t-shirt and black shorts, then snaps his gaze back up on Francis' face, a line of annoyance in between his eyebrows, "But usually people are a little bit better at hiding their judgment, or at least at pretending not to stare when they get caught."

Wait. 

_What?_

"You think-" Francis is having a hard time at grasping what he's just heard, "I wasn't judging you."

"No?" He gives him a bitter smile, "Sure. Than what were you doing, staring at me all the time?"

"Exactly that." He says and immediately regrets it for how Hot Guy’s eyebrows (elegant, almost painted by a skilled artist) shoot up on his forehead, "I mean-"

"Well, thank you for that." He interrupts him, crossing his arms in front of his chest and _oh_ , his forearms. 

No dammit, _focus_.

Hot Guy goes on, "I'd like if you'd keep your staring at a bare minimum, since it's not fucking polite and I like this gym very much and I have no intention to leave it because of an asshole."

"Leave it, _what_ \- no, listen you got this all wrong." He says, but it sounds defensive somehow and Hot Guy is back with his hands on his hips, squaring his shoulders (his big, wide shoulders) his feet firmly planted on the ground.

"And pray tell me, how so? Enlighten me."

"I..." He rushes to say, but stops to collect his thoughts in the hope of fucking this up a little less than what he's already done. "I was staring at you, but not in judgement, it was very far from it." Hot Guy seems to be listening, so Francis goes on, "I just... can't keep my eyes off you."

Hot Guy's eyes get a big wider at that and his faces relaxes a fraction. The hands stays on his hips tho, but his voice is not sharp anymore when he says: "That sounded like a cheap line from an even cheaper novel."

"Christ, why is this so hard." Francis pinches the bridge of his nose and shuts his eyes, "Listen, I'm very sorry about my behaviour, I had no idea it was making you uncomfortable. That wasn't my goal. At all."

"So you're telling me you kept looking at me only because..." He leaves the sentence open, as if waiting for Francis to finish it. _Oh, right-_

"Because I like you. How you look. You're stunning." _Stop talking, ohmygod._ "It's been very hard to focus on my exercises lately."

"Has it?" Hot Guy is almost smiling now, one corner of his pretty mouth lifting up just so, his face softer. Francis takes a breath.

"You can fucking bet it was. Ask my friend Thomas and he will tell you how often I've fucked up my push-ups in these past weeks."

Hot Guy laughs at that and then says, sounding a little bewildered: "Weeks?"

Francis is so glad he’s made him laugh that he doesn’t even mind having just made that confession. He nods, feeling a tentative smile on his own lips, "Weeks."

And then Hot Guy bites his bottom lip and it’s just a tiny movement, only a second, Francis would have missed it had he blinked in that exact moment, but he has seen it and he’s _gone_ for it. 

Hot Guy even offers him his hand. His big, elegant hand with long fingers that would look so good wrapped around his-

"James." He says, hand open and waiting for his.

"Francis." He says, clasping it. His palm is warm and silky smooth. Perfect, just like the rest of him. "Pleased to properly meet you, James."

"Likewise, now that I'm reassured you're not an asshole."

Francis feels the tip of his ears going terribly warm for the embarrassment and knows they’re bright pink, but then again, Hot Guy- no, _James_ , doesn’t look annoyed nor offended anymore so that’s very good. He actually looks quite willing to listen and talk to him.

"I'm mortified about that, really. I’m just very bad at flirting." Francis says, and immediately bites his tongue. What the hell, he's never been a Don Giovanni, alright, but this is _worse_ than any of his previous attempts at making a good impression on someone he's interested in. Luckily, James only seems to find it funny: he's fully smiling now, a real smile with teeth and sweet eye crinkles that take Francis' connection to reality away for a moment.

"Perhaps a bit of practice would benefit you, Francis." _Oh_ , the way he says his name, rolling the ‘r’ on his tongue- "You could learn a thing or two."

"Could I, now."

"Most certainly." He says and then leans closer -oh, Jesus Christ, he smells like fresh sweat, musky and _man_ ,- and whispers, almost against Francis’ ear, as if sharing a secret: "You could start by buying me a drink. To make yourself be forgiven."

"Forgiven? I've already-" He's stopped by James’ face, half amused and half scolding, "I mean. Of course.” He clears his throat, “Would you like to join me for a drink, James? You finish your lesson at half past six, right?"

And _this_ is what it takes to make every barrier on James’ face fall away, and for a moment he looks so open, expression full of surprise, a bit of amusement, a touch of incredulity and a bit of what Francis thinks might be interest. It’s breathtaking.

"You know the times of my lessons?" James asks, after a beat of silence.

"Ah, yeah, I mean," he makes a vague gesture with his hand, "The timetable is accessible to everyone, you know."

"I know." He says, with a thoughtful expression on his face. "What time is the kickboxing class today?"

"I... don't really know." 

_Should he?_

James smiles, obviously pleased with his answer, "But you know my yoga class’ times."

Francis feels the corners of his own mouth turning up into a smile.

"Guess I do."

James looks all pleased now and for just one moment it looks like he's almost going to lean towards Francis- but then he shakes his head lightly, long hair falling in front of his eyes and Francis' hand _burns_ with the need to push it back and caressing his fingers through it.

“Alright Francis, you can buy me a drink later, to make yourself be forgiven.” He says and Francis is almost going to point out that he’s already apologized, he knows he hasn’t been the most charming suitor ever, okay, but there’s no need to keep repeating that- but then he notices the glint in his deep, brown eyes and his attempt (failure) at hiding a smile. 

James the Hot Guy is teasing him.

Fucking handsome supermodel-Greek marble statue who’s also funny. Francis finds it hard to even _breathe_.

“Thank you, for giving me a chance. To explain mostly, but for this, too. I appreciate it.” He adds, wanting to let him know that he is a mess of a man, yes, but he also understands what James has done: he could have simply told Francis to fuck off, but he hasn’t. He’s taken control of the situation and confronted him, and that’s something Francis hasn’t found the courage to do himself.

"It’s alright. I’m glad we had this talk.” James says, looking genuinely satisfied, “Well, I'll see you later then, Francis. If you’re really going to wait for me." 

_Of course I will, I would climb a mountain in the promise of an hour of your time._

"Of course I will." He snaps his mouth shut before he can embarrass himself further. 

James is still looking at him, his lips slightly parted. He takes a step towards him and Francis can feel his body heat so clearly it’s almost a tangible thing.

"You know, sometimes people leave in the middle of the lessons,” James says, conversationally, holding his gaze, “if you'd happen to be near the door you could even get a glimpse of me doing a bridge pose."

"What's a-"

But James has fled already (with that pleased smile plastered on his beautiful, beautiful face).

-

" _Fuck_." Francis swears emphatically, a couple of minutes later, having looked up on Google what the hell a bridge pose is.

He showers in record time, then spends the next hour in front of the yoga class’ door (casually leaning against the wall, not looking suspicious at all) his mind full of lovely images of James laying down on his back, his hips pushed up in the hair, arms braced on the floor to push his lower body even higher, thighs strong with the effort of keeping him steady, his body a long line of hard muscles, cladded in those ridiculously tight shorts and his equally ridiculously cute pink t-shirt, long hair just a touch messy around his beautiful face.

"Fuck." Francis says again under his breath, even _more_ emphatically. 

He wonders how the hell he is going to survive the next forty minutes of this waiting.

**Author's Note:**

> \- English is not my first language so feel free to point out any mistake :)
> 
> \- shoutout to [burningfreeze](https://burningfreeze.tumblr.com) who read this, appreciated it and has been sending me stuff that makes me laugh out loud [like this](https://ibb.co/LnG20ZD) (I laugh every time I think about it I swear).
> 
> \- follow me [on tumblr](https://caravaggiosbrushes.tumblr.com/) where I post 80% the terror stuff, 10% art and 10% books and academia. A wonderful mix. (no yoga there……. yet)
> 
> \- [reblog](https://caravaggiosbrushes.tumblr.com/post/620076238707523584/ok-hear-me-out-modern-au-where-james-does-yoga)!
> 
> \- thank you again for reading! ♥


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